BARRIERS OF A FIRST LOVE
Chapter Thirteen
"You have a really great house."
Jack looked around the mansion in awe.
"Thanks. C’mon."
"Where are we going?"
"My bedroom."
"You’re a tease." However, Rose
really did lead him into her bedroom. He looked around at the shocking wine-red
walls, canopied bed, and mahogany furniture. She went over to a vanity table
and pulled out the silver bracelet Cal had given her from one of the drawers.
"That’s not just a really reflecting
metal, is it?" Jack asked her as she came towards him.
"Uh-uh." She shook her head no and
gave him the bracelet. With a trained eye, he could see that it had been hand
molded and must have cost a small fortune.
Rose took it back and let it dangle from her
index finger. "I want you to draw me like your French girls. Wearing
this." She made complete eye contact. "Wearing only this."
*****
Jack sat rather uncomfortably in the guest
bedroom Rose had led him into, stating that the lighting in her own room was
all wrong.
She emerged from the attached bathroom
wearing a silk robe. She laughed at the stricken expression on his face as she
reached for the soft rope tied around her waist. "You call yourself an
artist, yet start perspiring at the mere thought of seeing a woman nude?"
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but forgot
how at the last moment. She laughed again, this time parting the robe and exposing
the upper half of her body to him. Painfully slow, she lowered it all the way
down to the floor.
"Tell me when it looks right to
you." She settled herself on the beige and peach divan in the room. She
was outstretched with her head turned toward Jack and the bracelet hanging
loosely from her thin wrist as she brought it up closer to her face.
"Um…" Jack had found the art of
talking--almost. "Uh…um…uh, just bend your left…um…knee a little. There
you go. Eyes to me. That’s it."
He studied the thick drawing paper in front
of him, the artist’s charcoal clutched in his hand, and finally let his eyes
wander back to Rose. He began to draw, and, even though he was nervous beyond
reason, his strokes were sure and talented. He was so used to it that drawing was
almost second nature to him, and he soon let his mind wander. How can she
look so calm over there? Don’t most girls at least falter a little when a guy
is drawing them nude? I don’t know. It seems like I don’t know anything
anymore. Well, except for one thing. And that, of course, is that I can’t
imagine living without Rose DeWitt-Bukater.
*****
Rose watched Jack draw as her heart beat out
of control. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Well, wait. That’s ridiculous.
Of course I can believe it. There is no one that I could ever do this
with other than Jack Dawson.
*****
Jack put his initials in the corner of the
drawing just as Rose slipped the robe back on. He quickly critiqued it with an
artist’s eye. Without boasting, he knew that it was his best work yet. The soul
had been captured in Rose’s eyes, and her beauty and mystique were reflected in
her body.
"Date it, Jack."
"Why?"
"I never want to forget this day."
He did as he was told.